I just finished The Wedding Group, which I found in the bookcase in Venice, CA (thank you, Janet for having so many good books I have never read), and it was such an amazing portrait of a mother and her grown son, a sensitive but brilliantly controlling, independent but quietly needy, utterly indulgent mother. Hmm.
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This evening when I walked the dog, there was what could charitably called a briney smell coming from the river. Well, I’m feeling charitable, so I will call it that. Then I walked up the little hill, made the turn at the playground, admired the white billowy hyrangeas and then…between 81st and 80th…the Linden trees!
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I just took the dog out for a walk and for just a second the breeze came up from Riverside Park and brought with what I have been waiting for all spring: the intoxicating scent of Linden trees. Then it disappeared. But that means there will be more tomorrow. And the next day. And the
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I don’t really know what this is all about, but I love the graphic and I have a cairn, so any of you in southern California, take note!
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I recently read this amazing, surprising book. It is the 18th-century memoir of a remarkable man taken from Africa as a boy and sold into slavery. Africa and the family he lost, the nightmare of the passage and of plantation work, the differences in status for a slave in the West Indies, in England and
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